First Love, First Loss
by daphrose
Summary: Flashing lights, skidding tires, and broken glass ended it all. Young love is beautiful, but it is also fragile. Sometimes life—cruel, cruel life—decides to end it prematurely. Bree never even got to say goodbye.
1. Part One: Late

**I was looking through some of my old notes a few days ago and realized that it has been a full ten months since I first started on this idea. Wow. Whoops. Well, after changing quite a few things (including making it a three-shot instead of a full multi-chaptered story), it's finally here.**

**Rated T for death and tragedy. If you've ever lost someone you love, please read this with care. It's going to get a little deep at times (especially the third part). Also, this story probably takes place somewhere around the end of season one. Just so you know.**

**One other thing: As I said, I started this a long time. And while I did some editing, a lot of this first part is from my original document. I apologize if it sucks. I know it's not the best, but to be honest, I wasn't sure quite how to rewrite it. Just keep that in mind if it looks a little different from my current writing style.**

**After months and months and ****_months _****of waiting, I present to you: First Love, First Loss. I don't own Lab Rats or Frozen (by the way, there ****_may _****be some Frozen spoilers in this chapter), and please enjoy.**

* * *

*** * * Part One: Late * * ***

* * *

Tasha descended the stairs in the living room and cleared her throat. The males of the Davenport family all glanced up at her. "Presenting Miss Bree Davenport," Tasha said dramatically as Bree walked down the stairs.

Bree had on a light purple dress that went just below her knees. Her wavy brown hair was pushed back with a flowery pink headband. Her lips were redder than usual and her cheeks were rosier.

"Whoa," Chase said as he caught a good look at his sister.

"You look so girly, Bree," Adam commented.

Mr. Davenport had come over from his workspace and had an arm wrapped around his wife. "My baby girl's growing up," he said with tears in his eyes.

Bree spun around, causing the frilly ends of her dress to swirl around her knees. "Do you think Ethan will like it?" Bree asked, the smile never leaving her lips.

"Of course!" Leo assured her. "Who wouldn't?"

Bree grinned broadly. "I'm so excited," she gushed. "This will be my third date with Ethan, and by far our most romantic yet."

"Where are you two going again?" Chase asked.

"This really fancy restaurant downtown. He made reservations and _everything_!"

"And you'll be home by nine thirty, right, young lady?" Mr. Davenport asked.

"Of course, _Daddy_," Bree said, rolling her eyes. "We're just going to meet there and eat. Then I'll come straight home, I promise."

"How are you going to get there? You can't drive yet," Adam pointed out.

"I figured I'd super-speed," Bree said. "When I go fast enough no one can see me."

Mr. Davenport started to refuse. "Bree, I don't think that's such—"

"Unless of course you want to take a break from all your inventions and drive me down there," Bree cut her father off.

"Well, I guess it's alright," Mr. Davenport said slowly. "But make absolutely sure no one sees."

"Of course!" Bree promised.

"You'd better get going, sweetheart!" Tasha said, shepherding her step-daughter to the door. "You don't want to be late."

"Bye everyone!" Bree said before charging out the door. She heard a chorus of goodbyes echoing behind her as she raced away from the Davenport mansion.

Bree arrived at the restaurant and glanced down at her watch. _6:58. _Their reservation was at seven. Bree looked around the front of the restaurant and didn't see Ethan yet. _Oh well._

Two minutes later Bree decided she might as well go sit at the table. She went up to the hostess and said, "I have a reservation. It should be under 'Ethan Harper.'"

"Ah, yes," the hostess said. "Table for two?"

"Please," Bree replied.

"Right this way."

Bree followed the hostess to the tables in the restaurant. Bree took a seat and picked up one of the menus. She bit her lip a little and wondered where Ethan could be. She pulled out her phone.

_Hey where r u? – Bree_

Bree sighed and settled into her seat to wait.

* * *

Ethan's phone buzzed beside him. He bit his lip. He knew how dangerous it was to text and drive, but he also wanted to know what Bree had said—because he was sure it was her. After contemplating it for a bit, he snuck a quick peek at his phone. He wouldn't answer; he would just read it.

_Hey where r u? – Bree_

_Almost there,_ Ethan mentally answered. He chuckled a bit to himself as he thought about how impatient girls could be. _Especially _Bree. But Ethan loved her all the same.

A smile slipped across Ethan's face as he thought about Bree. Her gorgeous brown locks, her sweet smile, the way she could disappear from sight in just a matter of seconds when she got flustered—Ethan still didn't understand_ how _she did that, but it was adorable all the same.

A honking horn, flashing lights, and the sound of skidding tires broke Ethan out of his trance. In his mirror the teenager could see an out-of-control car skidding around the road. _And it was headed straight for Ethan's car._ He spun the steering wheel frantically. A cry escaped his lips and adrenaline flooded his veins.

Ethan's body jerked forward as something collided with the back of his car. Everything happened so fast. The trees mere feet away from his windshield; the sound of shattering glass; the taste of blood filling his mouth.

_I might be a little late, Bree._

A cold, desolate darkness wrapped around Ethan. The world was ripped from his grasp as he slipped into oblivion. For a second he tried to hold on to the light, for Bree's sake, at least. But it was too much for him. With one final, labored breath, Ethan gave into the darkness.

* * *

Bree sighed and glanced down at her watch again. _He was supposed to be here half an hour ago! _she thought bitterly. _Where is he?_ She sighed again and pulled out her phone. No new messages. She punched in his number and put the phone to her ear.

"_Hi! You've reached Ethan Harper! Sorry I can't take your call right now. Leave a message after the beep and I'll get back to you." _The phone beeped harshly in Bree's ear and she turned it off. That was the third time in a row!

Fifteen more minutes passed. Finally Bree couldn't take it anymore. Ethan obviously wasn't coming. Bree felt a lump rise in her throat. She thought things had been going so well! Why would he stand her up like that?

Bree walked out of the restaurant. "I guess I should head home," she muttered. The sky rumbled in response. The next thing Bree knew, she was being drenched in rain. "Oh, come on!" she shouted angrily at the heavens.

Bree glanced around, making sure no one was nearby. When she saw that there weren't any people, she super-sped home. Although she always wished she was normal, Bree did enjoy her bionics sometimes.

The door swung open as Bree entered the house. Mr. Davenport was working on something at his desk and Chase, Adam, and Leo were at the kitchen table doing homework. Well, Chase and Leo were doing homework. Adam was building a mini-fort out of pencils.

"Hi Bree," Mr. Davenport said absentmindedly as his daughter entered. "I thought you weren't going to be home until later."

"Ethan stood me up," Bree muttered between clenched teeth. She heard a chuckle come from the kitchen table. "Oh, who are you kidding!" she shouted at Chase. "You couldn't even get a date if you wanted to!"

"All right, Bree!" Chase said defensively. "Sheesh, I was just joking around!"

"Well it's not funny!" Bree yelled before dropping onto the couch.

"Maybe he's got a good reason," Leo said.

"Maybe," Bree muttered. "He won't answer my phone calls or my text messages."

"Oh, I know!" Adam shouted excitedly. "Maybe on the way to meet you he ran into a bear and it ate his cell phone! Then he had to climb up a tree to get away from it. So he spent the whole evening in a tree hiding from a bear instead of going on a date with you."

In spite of herself, Bree began to laugh. "That is the most _ridiculous _theory I've ever heard!"

"No, no, wait, I've got a better story," Adam continued. "I bet when he was walking out to his car, a bird snatched his phone. Then when Ethan was chasing the bird, he fell into a swimming pool. When he finally managed to get out, a family of squirrels attacked him. So he jumped back into the pool and swam away from them. But he still didn't have his phone, so he drove over to his grandma's house to borrow hers. When he got there she baked him cookies and then told him that she didn't have a phone. But when he went back to his car, he realized that he had locked the keys inside. So he started to run, but he tripped and fell into a portal! Then he wound up in another dimension where everyone has purple skin and eats raspberries all day. And by the time he got out it was too late to go on a date with you."

By this time Bree was rolling around on the floor, hardly breathing due to the forceful laughter escaping her lips. Finally she sat up and gasped for air, chuckles still making their way out of her throat.

"You know, since you're home now anyway, why don't I make some popcorn and we can watch a movie together?" Chase suggested.

"That sounds great!" Bree agreed. She liked the thought of having something to take her mind off this night. "I'll go get changed."

Everyone headed off to do different things. Adam gathered up blankets to throw onto the couch, Bree changed into her pajamas, Chase started on the popcorn, and Leo gathered up the movies. They all met back in the living room fifteen minutes later.

"Big D, you want to watch a movie with us?" Leo called up to his step-dad, who was sitting at his desk up by the window.

"You know, I've got a lot of work to do tonight, Leo," Mr. Davenport said. "But you guys feel free to watch it. I'll be down in the lab."

The kids said their various farewells as their father headed back downstairs. That's when Bree realized something.

"Hey, where's Tasha?" she asked.

"The studio called her down for some big news assignment," Leo explained as he laid out the movie choices on the coffee table. "She said she'd probably be back late, but she didn't want to miss this opportunity."

Bree nodded in understanding as she tossed a piece of popcorn into her mouth. "So what movie are we watching?" she asked once she had swallowed.

Adam and Leo looked at each other with big grins. "Frozen!" they both shouted at the same time.

Chase and Bree groaned. "Again?" Chase asked.

"Yes, again," Adam insisted. "It's great!"

The two youngest bionics rolled their eyes, but they finally mumbled their consent. Leo popped in the movie and the siblings snuggled up together on the couch. Chase continually leaned over and whispered some fallacy regarding the movie into Bree's ear. Every time a song came on, Adam and Leo would begin to sing along so horribly out-of-key that it made Bree cringe. But still she loved it. For the next hour and a half Bree enjoyed being with her brothers. Anger at Ethan was washed away as she laughed and gasped and sang with her brothers.

When Hans betrayed Anna, all Bree could think was how horrible the princess must have felt. To have someone you thought was your true love squish your heart so easily . . . but Ana didn't mope about it. She stood up for herself and gave Hans what he deserved. Bree decided to be like Ana and take a stand for herself —perhaps even punching Ethan in the nose.

At school on Monday Ethan would get an earful from Bree! But for now Bree was content to curl up into the couch—Adam and Chase on either side of her and Leo and her feet—and watch a movie. Her cares disappeared and she smiled as she buried her face in Chase's shoulder.

* * *

**I know, I know, it was pretty suckish. Like I said, most of it is actually pretty old. The next parts I wrote more recently, and I promise they'll be better.**

**I have an explanation for Adam's stories. Really, I do! So, I've always loved making up random and crazy stories for my younger brothers to make them laugh. Usually I did it at the dinner table. But I would just say the weirdest things to pop into my head and make a funny story. I thought that maybe Adam—as the eldest—would do the same thing. Plus, it's ****_Adam_****.**

**We all know that Bree shouldn't blame Ethan, but remember, from her point of view, she got stood up. She'll learn the truth soon. Also, anyone wanna take a guess about that big news story Tasha is covering?**

**Thanks for reading, even if it wasn't my best. Part Two will be posted on Wednesday and Part Three on Friday. Sound good? Reviews are much appreciated, of course. See you all on Wednesday! Bye!**


	2. Part Two: Breaking (the) News

**Happy Wednesday, everyone! I'm glad you liked the first part of this story. And yup, you all guessed correctly about Tasha's news story. There's going to be quite a bit of Bree-Tasha bonding in the next two chapters. Originally I was going to have a chapter for each family member to comfort Bree, but I realized that I didn't really want to write all that. So it's mostly just Tasha-Bree here.**

**And real quick to the Guest who asked me about an alternate ending to Mission Mania: Mia-Teresa-Davenport told me she wanted to do a story about that. I do have a few ideas for something original I could do with it, but we'll have to see. I'm pretty busy with other projects too. Who knows, though? Thanks for the suggestion!**

**Not sure there's anything else to say. Part Two moves a bit fast, I'll admit, but I didn't want to drag it out. (Also, fair warning, I'm ****_awful _****at naming streets. And I don't know much about reporting.) I don't own Lab Rats. Enjoy!**

* * *

*** * * Part Two: Breaking (the) News * * ***

* * *

Tasha gathered herself together and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. She clutched her umbrella tightly in her hand and hurried to the spot she was supposed to be. Her cameraman pulled the equipment from the van.

A quick glance over at the wreckage nearby made Tasha feel a bit sick. Still, it was her job to cover disasters like this. The firemen, policemen, and paramedics were everywhere. Bits of metal were strewn across the road. Several cars had crashed in the forest nearby.

Tasha regained her composure and turned back to face the camera. She plastered a smile on her face and got ready to do her job. "Good evening, Mission Creek. I'm Tasha Davenport, here with the breaking news about the massive crash on West Appleton Freeway this evening. Here with me is Police Officer Carl Shue." She walked over to the man in the blue uniform. "Tell us what happened here, Carl."

"Well, Tasha," the officer said politely, "from what we can gather, it seems that one of the drivers spun out on a patch of wet road from the downpour this morning. He was completely out of control, and unfortunately, many other cars weren't able to get out of the way in time."

"That's too bad, Carl," Tasha said. _Anchor lady face. Don't look sad._

"It really is. Seven people are being rushed to the hospital as we speak. Two have been proclaimed dead. A woman named Bethany Baker and a teenage boy named Ethan Harper."

Tasha felt her blood run cold. "I'm sorry, officer, did you say Ethan Harper?"

"Yes ma'am, I did. We've already contacted his family, and Bethany's too. It's a sad scene tonight. This is one of the worst car crashes in Mission Creek history. Um, Mrs. Davenport?"

"Oh, um, I'm sorry, Officer Carl . . ." Tasha trailed off. All thoughts about keeping an _anchor lady face _left her mind.

"Tasha, is something wrong?" the officer asked. Tasha could see the weird look the cameraman was giving her.

"I'm sorry," she said again. Without another word, she dropped her microphone and ran to her car, ignoring the calls for her to come back. She hopped into the driver's seat and started the car, heading in the direction opposite the crash. "I hope I don't lose my job," she muttered to herself.

* * *

Adam and Leo were finishing up their final rendition of "Let It Go." Mr. Davenport was standing at the counter, attempting to peel a banana while holding his ears. Bree was finishing up the popcorn, licking the remaining salt off her fingers. Chase was removing the DVD from the player, hoping it would discourage his brothers' singing. It didn't.

That was the scene when Tasha ran in through the front door. Everyone looked up at her, and Adam and Leo quickly finished the last note of the song. "Were you guys watching the news?" she asked frantically.

"Well of course not, you were reporting," Adam said.

Tasha ignored her stepson's comment. "There was a big accident on West Appleton Freeway this evening. People . . . died."

"That's very sad, Tasha," Mr. Davenport said from across the room. "But that kind of thing happens every day."

"Was it someone we know?" Chase asked.

"Bree, sweetie, would you come with me?" Tasha asked.

Bree looked at her brothers and her father before standing up to follow Tasha. As they were going upstairs, Leo called, "Should we come?"

Tasha motioned for Bree to keep going. Then she said quietly, "Let me tell Bree first. Just be patient."

The two girls went up to one of the guest rooms. The boys stayed down in the living room, looking at each other with confused expressions on their faces.

No one would ever know exactly what was said in that guest bedroom that night. Later on, they could guess. Surely Tasha was gentle; that was her nature. She was one to let someone down easy. She was a mother, and she knew how to talk with children. As overbearing and overprotective as she could be, she was a good mom. So there was no way she had an easy time relating the news to Bree.

The screams from the bedroom would be all the world would ever hear of that conversation. The yells of "You're lying!" and "Please, please, tell me you're joking!" and "It's not true! Not true!" followed by strangled sobs. Oh, those sobs. The boys downstairs shuddered.

* * *

_It's not true. It's not true. This is a dream. This isn't happening. No. Please. No. Oh, no, no, no! Please. Don't let it be true. This is a big practical joke. This isn't happening. He can't be . . . he's not . . . oh, why, why? And I was mad at him . . . no. Please. No._

That was all she could think. Not a single coherent thought would enter her brain. Half of what she thought was just the word "No." Instant denial of what she was hearing. Her sobs drowned out everything around her.

The world tilted. Her vision was blurry. Her brain was fuzzy. It felt like her whole head was empty . . . or filled with tears. Her whole life fell apart right in front of her. Everything was wrong. Never had she felt so worn out, so sad, so terrified . . . so alone.

Even with the comforting arms wrapped around her, she felt like she was alone. No one could understand the pain she felt at that moment. Surely no one else could ever understand. Everything . . . everything was wrong. She didn't know what to think. What to do.

It felt like someone had ripped her heart out of her chest. Everything hurt. Her whole body trembled, but she wasn't aware of it. She wasn't aware of anything. She slipped deeper and deeper into her stepmother's arms, hoping that somehow she could find comfort in them.

* * *

"Honey, you need to eat," Tasha said gently.

"I'm not hungry."

Tasha sighed. She wasn't even talking to a person. She was talking to a pile of sheets. Buried somewhere under there was her stepdaughter—no, no. Buried under those blankets was her beautiful daughter, her baby girl, the one she wanted to comfort and hold. "Please, Bree?"

"I said I'm not hungry."

Tasha sat on the foot of the bed. She placed the plate of chicken on the nearby desk. "Donald's worried about you. Something about needing your capsule . . ."

"I'm not using my bionics anyway."

"Please, sweetie, come out."

Slowly the blankets moved. Bree's face peered out, stained with tears and framed by messy hair. Tasha's heart went out to her.

"Oh, honey . . ."

"I'm not getting up," Bree said obstinately.

Tasha began rubbing the lump under the covers that was Bree's foot. "I know it hurts, baby."

"No, you don't," Bree sniffled. "You couldn't know how much it hurts. He . . . he was my first love. I . . . I thought we would . . . we were supposed to be eating dinner . . . and he was . . . he was . . ." The tears began again and she buried her face in her pillow.

Tasha sighed. "Actually, Bree, I know exactly how you feel."

Bree lifted her face and coughed. "How could you possibly know?"

"My first husband . . . his name was James. He was Leo's father. When Leo was just three years old, James was hit by a drunk driver. He died instantly. He was . . . coming home from work. I was making lasagna . . . his favorite . . . I haven't eaten lasagna since that night."

"Wow," Bree said softly. "I . . . I never knew that."

Tasha nodded. "It's hard to go through. I know. Believe me, Bree, I do. It's only been a week. Give it time."

"Does it get better?"

"In a way. You'll always feel sad, and wonder what could've happened if he hadn't . . ." Tasha trailed off. "Yes. You'll get better. I promise."

"It sure doesn't feel like it," Bree said. She began to play with her fingers. "We were supposed to go to the zoo today. It feels so wrong. Every time I get a text I expect it to be from him. I've even tried calling him a few times." She looked up mournfully. "He was only sixteen. Why did he have to die? He had his whole life ahead of him. He wanted to try out for the baseball team next year. He wanted to grow up and manage a hotel. That was his dream. I thought it was silly . . . why did I think it was silly?"

"We're all going to regret things. But spending time wondering about 'what might have been' is a waste. Bree, sweetie, Ethan wouldn't want you to sit around and mope."

Bree cringed at his name. "That's what they say in the movies and on TV. But . . . it's kinda true, isn't it? Ethan always loved that I could keep moving even when something bad happened. It would be awful to disappoint him now . . ."

"I'll tell you what: Ethan's funeral is on Sunday. That's tomorrow. We can get you cleaned up, and you can go. It might be good for saying goodbye."

"I never got to tell him how much he meant to me," she whispered.

"This will give you a chance. Please, Bree. Please go."

Bree nodded. She took a deep, shuddering breath and said, "Okay. I'll go."

* * *

**How was it? I know, I know, not the best. But it seems like no matter how bad a job I do, you guys still love it. *shakes head* I'll never understand. But you guys are wonderful, okay? :)**

**('Kay, that was weird . . . Pages just crashed on me . . . thought I lost this for a moment . . . phew . . . we're good.)**

**Was it OOC for Bree? I feel like it was actually pretty okay. And don't forget this is more towards the beginning of the show. I'm proud of how I did Tasha. Usually I have a harder time writing her.**

**Real quick I want to apologize for falling behind on PMs/reviewing stories. This week has been kinda busy, and it's only getting busier. Tonight I get to shoot people with blow darts at church (a Hunger-Games-based event). If you think we Christians aren't fun . . . you've never played a youth group murder game. ;) Anyway, things have been kinda busy and a bit stressful in places, so just have patience with me, m'kay? Thanks for understanding!**

**Thanks to everyone for reading and for all the reviews I got last chapter. That was awesome! Keep them coming. ;) Anyway, see you on Friday for Part Three. Bye!**


	3. Part Three: Goodbye

**Out of all three parts, this one might be the one I'm most proud of. I'm still nervous about it, though. The main reason being that I haven't been to a funeral in years, and even then it was for a relative I hardly knew. My apologies if I got anything wrong. (Although apparently PrincessSparkleKitty could tell me if anything was wrong. I was actually pretty freaked out when you told me that, girl! O.o)**

**Anyway, expect more Tasha/Bree bonding, a few sad farewells, and a surprise appearance from another character. I hope it wasn't inappropriate to throw him in there. Eh. We'll see. Anyway, I don't own Lab Rats or the characters. Enjoy!**

* * *

*** * * Part Three: Goodbye * * ***

* * *

There couldn't have been a more perfect day for the funeral. The sky was overcast and threatening rain. A chill wind blew its way through Mission Creek and rustled the grass in the graveyard.

Several black chairs were set up in neat rows. Up front was a wooden coffin with flowers placed on it. Mourners sat in the chairs, all dressed in that dreary solid color.

Bree straightened her black dress and looked up front where the pastor from Ethan's church was speaking. Truth be told, Bree didn't hear much of what he said. Her head was still buzzing with thoughts of denial and grief. There weren't talking about _her _Ethan. It wasn't _his _body in that box.

Every minute Bree felt like Ethan was going to pop out of the bushes and say that he was fine. It was some kind of trick. It was a mistake. He wasn't dead. Bree had no doubt that everyone else there had the same thoughts. This couldn't be happening.

Bree sat erect in her chair. Tears couldn't and wouldn't come. She had cried herself dry. There was nothing but numbness, that bitter denial. Honestly, she wanted to cry. She wanted to break down into wracking sobs to show how much she loved Ethan—because she truly did—but she just couldn't. The tears wouldn't come. She sat in shock, blinking every now and then as people spoke.

Everyone agreed: Ethan had been a wonderful guy. Various friends and family members got up to a say a few words about him. Ethan had touched so many people. He was a good friend and a nice young man. Sure, he had his flaws—Bree knew for a fact that he would sometimes take out his old action figures and play with them like he was still five years old—but overall he was a good guy, and everyone knew it.

Others had spoken, but Bree couldn't bring herself to say anything. She was afraid she would melt down in front of all these people. She couldn't talk about Ethan like it was over; like she would never see him again. Talking about it would make it real. She wasn't ready to accept it. She needed time. Bree couldn't talk about him like he lived only in the past.

_But . . . but he did. He's gone._

Bree squeezed her eyes shut. No. She wasn't ready to believe it. Ethan couldn't be gone. Forget about the fact that he had been her boyfriend. He was a good friend. He was just a kid. He couldn't be gone.

Bree felt an arm around her shoulder. She turned and smiled at Tasha. "Thank you for coming," she whispered.

"No problem," Tasha whispered back.

Tasha pulled Bree closer to her. Bree leaned into the side-hug willingly. For years she had wondered what having a mother would be like. Now she knew. Having a mother meant having someone there who would cry with you and give you a shoulder to lean on—literally. It meant someone who would love you unconditionally and kiss you on the forehead and tell you that everything would be all right.

In her childhood, Bree had often imagined what a perfect mother would be like. Sometimes she made a list, giving them the best qualities she could think of. None of those fake mothers Bree had created could compare to Tasha. Bree would never regret the day Tasha and Leo moved in with them. As far as she was concerned, Tasha was and always would be her real mom.

The time came when everyone could say their final goodbyes. One by one people approached the coffin, touching it and whispering their thoughts. Tasha squeezed Bree's hand. "Want to go up?" she whispered.

Bree nodded stiffly and stood. She moved to the aisle in the center and walked slowly towards the coffin. It was only a few feet away, but it seemed to take forever to reach it. Tasha followed her, but she veered away to comfort Mrs. Harper. For that Bree was grateful. She needed this moment all to herself.

Other people had began to mutter to one another and comfort the grieving family. Even though Bree was standing in front of them all, she still felt like she was alone. She was comfortable pouring out her heart right here. Now if only her listener wasn't a wooden box.

"I guess I should say I'm sorry," she whispered. "I was so mad when you didn't show up. For a little while I thought you were a jerk. I know you're not—er, weren't, or . . . forget it. I really can't do this. Please, Ethan, you can't be gone! Maybe I'm too young to even know what love is, but if nothing else, you were my friend. I enjoyed every second we were together.

"Remember our first kiss in the park? Right next to the pond. Some geese started honking at us and you chased them away. I never told you, but that was my first kiss. With a real human, anyway. I'll never forget it. I'll also never tell Mr. Davenport about it, because he would ground me for life.

"You've always been a really great guy. You knew what chivalry was and you weren't afraid to be kind and respectful. A lot of guys I meet are jerks, but you were different. I mean, I don't know any other boy who would give up his whole Friday night just to go bowling with his mom. I've always admired you because of that.

"Sure, you had an immature side. Your jokes could be _really _corny. Sometimes you weren't the brightest and you missed the most obvious things. I never cared about that, though. Your corny jokes made me laugh, and you weren't as bad as Adam when it came to obliviousness.

"I loved every moment I was with you. Maybe it was for your looks at first, but as I got to know you, I fell in love with your personality. You will always be my first love. I'm never going to forget you, Ethan. I promise. There are so many more cliché things I could say here, but I think I'm going to leave it at that."

Bree started to turn and walk away, but she thought better of it. "On second thought, there's one more thing I think you should know. I could never tell you before, but . . . I think it's fine now. You deserve to know." She glanced around to make sure no one could hear her. "I'm a bionic superhuman. My main ability is super-speed. I can run several hundred miles per hour. Those skid marks in the hallway were mine. That's how I was able to get on top of the lockers. Every time I mysteriously disappeared, it was because I got nervous and ran away. I never knew what to say to you.

"There. Now you know. I thought it was time to tell you. My father wants it to be kept a secret, obviously, but I thought you should know. Besides, who are you gonna tell? I think the angels already know.

"I'm going to miss you a lot, Ethan. I know you're in a better place now, but I'm not. I'm still here, and I'm still grieving over you. I always will be. Thank you for everything you ever did for me. Thank you for loving me. Good . . . goodbye, Ethan."

Bree couldn't bear to say anything else. She turned to take a seat. Tasha was still comforting Mrs. Harper, so Bree sat down beside a dark-haired boy. He had a sketchbook on his lap and was concentrating on it.

Despite her best efforts, Bree's eyes kept wandering to the boy's drawings. They were flowers, drawn in black and white. They were exceptionally beautiful.

As Bree looked up, she found herself meeting the gaze of the boy. They stared at each other for a few seconds. Finally, Bree stammered, "Nice flowers."

"Thank you," he said. "They're lilies. They represent the innocence of the soul as it's taken away from this life. The white is for the purity, and the black is for the mourning of those who have not yet departed. Mixed together, they create a bittersweet picture of the balance between life and death."

"Huh," Bree said slowly, trying to comprehend everything he had said. "Well, I like lilies."

"Me too. I'm Owen, by the way."

"Bree. So, how did you know Ethan?"

"He was one of my best friends. We met in kindergarten when he criticized my finger painting. After I forgave him, we started to hang out a lot. Did you say your name was Bree? He told me about you."

Bree's cheeks turned a deep shade of red. "He did?"

"Oh yes. From what I've heard, you're a great girl. He never stopped talking about how wonderful you are." Owen looked up towards the coffin. "I should probably say something. I've got a speech prepared for this."

Bree stood up to let Owen past. "Well, it was nice meeting you."

"Nice meeting you too. I do have to say, you're as beautiful as Ethan said you were. Maybe even more so. I hope I'll see you around sometime."

"Yeah," Bree mumbled. "Bye."

Owen walked up to the front with his sketchpad tucked beneath his arm. Bree took a deep breath and turned just in time to see Tasha coming back over to her.

"How are you doing, sweetie?" Tasha asked.

"It hurts," Bree said, her arms folded across her chest.

Tasha pulled her step-daughter into a hug and patted her head. Bree buried her face in Tasha's shoulder, accepting the affection. It wasn't embarrassing; it was sweet and comforting. Bree needed that.

"It's going to take a while to get used to the fact that I can't just call him up whenever I feel like it. That I can't talk to him face-to-face or hear his laugh or make up math-related nicknames with him."

"I know it's going to be hard. But I promise, honey, it's going to get better."

Bree took a deep, shuddering breath. Peering over Tasha's shoulder, she could see Owen standing by the coffin. "Maybe," she said, drawing out the word, "maybe it already is."

* * *

**Was it too weird to throw Owen in there? I picture their relationship taking off slowly from here, but I knew from the start (almost a year ago) that I wanted to have him in the end. Also, I had to look up "flowers that represent death" on Google to figure out his spiel. Owen's a hard character, I have to say. And yet, a very interesting one to write.**

**Bree wasn't originally going to confess that she was bionic. It wasn't planned one bit. My "inner narrator"—as I was writing this part—told Bree to go back to her seat, but suddenly she turned around and was telling Ethan about her abilities. And my brain said, "Huh, okay. That actually works." Have any of you authors had that? When it seems like the characters in your brain have a mind of their own and they go do their own thing without your permission? Leo (and Mr. Davenport, actually) just did that to me while writing chapter 29 of WDF. (Ooh! Spoilers?)**

**How did you like it? After ten months, I'm finally done. I hope it was all right, even if it was a bit weird in some places. I know it's far from my best work, but I still like it. It was meant to be simple.**

**Once again I'd like to apologize for not PMing/reviewing other stories. It's been a busy and hard week. I'm hoping that I'll be able to catch up on the weekend, but we'll have to see. Thank you for your patience.**

**Thanks for reading and for all the reviews/follows/favorites. They're better than candy. :3 I sincerely hope you enjoyed, and I'll see you guys on my future stories. Bye!**


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